


facets

by whose baby is this (CarnivorousMoogle)



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Drabble Compilation, F/F, M/M, Monster!AU, Multi, Other, changeling!angor au, poly ships, the lighter-hearted one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-01-21 17:39:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12462633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarnivorousMoogle/pseuds/whose%20baby%20is%20this
Summary: or: there's many ways to cut a stone.(drabble compilation)





	1. little jokes (changeling!angor/strickler)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a compilation of any drabbles of mine that don't feel like they need to be separate fics. It's also for the lighter-hearted of my drabbles; potentially triggery or explicit ones are in my other compilation, 'they wear away.' Most of these are quick and unedited, so don't expect high quality, but I hope you enjoy anyway.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> strickrot with changeling!angor, for anon.

The human name he wears is Anton Mortimer, but the children he teaches to build beautiful things with their hands call him Mr. Mort. He isn’t bothered. He knows they are all a little afraid of him, even the ones who like him, even when they come to realize his strange little jokes are just that, and frankly he enjoys the healthy respect that comes with just a little fear.

He just wishes it was enough respect to stop them trying to sneak him the history teacher’s phone number. He already has it, and it’s not as though he could explain to them what the words “Killahead” and “Changeling” and “Gunmar” mean, wedged into their texts between Strickler’s furious reprimands and repeated thumbnails of Rick Astley’s face.


	2. chicken dance (jim/toby/claire)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jim/toby/claire, aka trollhunting trio, for darkland-dog on tumblr.

“So how would you feel about it if I kissed Jim?”

They’re sitting on the cliffside by the park, sandwiches in hand, when she asks without any real prompting.

Toby freezes mid-bite. Chews very slowly, and swallows.

“Well, you don’t have to ask _me_ ,“ he says, and stares at the floor with his mouth curled up funny.

Claire thinks about her next words. “I mean… I don’t,” she says. “But you don’t–have to ask me either?”

She watches Toby stiffen, and relax, and some part of her that was tight behind her ribs relaxes too.

“That obvious, huh,” he mumbles.

Claire snorts. “Yeah, a little. I mean the _hugging_.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” he says, a little louder and a little smugger and a little more like himself, although there’s a new kind of nervousness about him now. He knows that she knows and she knows that he knows.

“Hey, it’s not a contest,” she says, flushing beet-red, hands held up defensively.

“Good, because if it was I don’t know if I could call your gross chicken-dancing around each other ‘winning.’”

Claire punches his shoulder and he takes a too-big bite of his sandwich, cackling through tuna salad as he rocks sideways with the hit. Pretending her laughter is a huff of annoyance doesn’t work, and she stops bothering completely when it turns into them kicking their legs at each other and trying to grab the last packet of mayonnaise.

She doesn’t get an answer that night, but she thinks she gets the idea.


	3. spanish presentation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> from the prompt ‘claire and toby’s spanish presentation’ on discord.

“Toby, I can’t believe you.”

“What? Got me out of a presentation, didn’t it? Señor Uhl’s evil, Claire. It’s on him.”

“Toby, every Spanish period after us is going to be cancelled today.”

“Yep. Think he knows Spanish for 'don’t steal lunch from a tenth-grader?’”

“Yes. He does. I’m pretty sure he does.”

“See? All on him.”


	4. freefall (barb/nomura)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt ‘hey write me something really gay’ from trollmarket-dog on tumblr.

“Tell me everything,” says Barb, voice hoarse and hands shaking on either side of Nomura’s head. Her eyes are stark with stress and fear and lack of sleep, and the suffocating darkness of the storm overhead turns them dark indeed. “Everything, Nomura, please tell me where he is, tell me.”

Nomura stares back at her with a dry mouth and eyes that see too clearly, in the moment. The steady tick and blink of the dashboard, the low howl stirring the trees, the way the light leaches Barbara’s hair dull and the desperate sheet-white tightness of her face; she’ll remember every detail of it for the rest of her life, and she knows it.

The rain starts to hammer on the roof. She can feel it in the back of her throat: the floating moment before the thunder claps, when the storm breathes in, when the world turns slowly on the tipping point from which there is no return.

“Please,” Barb cracks, thin fingers digging into her hair.

The world turns in slow motion, and freefalls.

Nomura tells her everything.


	5. boo (strickler/angor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt ‘angor and strickler being dicks to each other while strickler still has the inferna copula’ from discord.

“'Boo?’ Is that the best you can do to intimidate me? _Actually_ 'boo?’”

Angor ignores his rising, incredulous voice, whittling away at the flesh he holds between his careful claws. Strickler’s temper fades to a gnatlike whine in his ears, and he smiles to himself. He wouldn’t be so angry if it hadn’t worked.


	6. horseshoe (jim/toby)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the prompt ‘monster au!jim and toby, because let toby have a cute monster boyfriend’ from trollmarket-dog on tumblr.

“Whup,” says Toby, wobbling back and forth as Jim climbs up his back. “Up you come, pal, ow watch the claws–”

“Almost got it,” Jim whispers, which is completely unnecessary because it’s 3:00 A.M. and there’s no one around except the squirrel who comes out to glare at him sometimes when he plays too close to its tree. “Almost whoa don’t drop me!”

“I’m doing my best but you’ve kinda got your claws in my hair and I’m pretty sure there are holes in my shirt and I’ve only got one ow! Cut it out! Whoa whoa whoa whoa–!”

The two-man tower collapses, landing Toby on his face and Jim in a somersault across the grass. He ends up with his wings flat on the ground and his back legs in the air, tailtip hanging down in his face, staring upside down at the sky through the canopy of the oak tree while the ringing clears from his ears.

He hears Toby groan, and the sound of grass being wiped off a face. “Guh. Did you get it?”

It takes a second for Jim to parse the words, stunned as he is. “Nope. Still up there.”

Toby sighs, hauling himself to his feet and staring in resignation at the shoe dangling overhead. “Gonna be walking home on one sock, I guess. Next time we’re using a real horseshoe.”

“Aw,” says Jim, who hasn’t moved. “Where’s the fun in that? They have a good heft and everything and they’re soft. You’re lucky you can wear ‘em at all.”

Toby is obviously not having it, but he grabs Jim’s paw to pull him upright again anyway. It’s awkward, really awkward, like a reverse somersault and he’s pretty sure he did it on purpose, and all of a sudden he’s glad it’s 3 A.M. and the sidewalks are empty. “Come on, I gotta get home and you gotta get indoors before your dad notices. Come on.”

It takes Jim a second to get his balance solid on four paws again, and when he does he bats a paw at Toby’s shoulder. “Hey. Hey, c'mon, man, you only have one shoe. You’re gonna hurt your feet trying to walk home that way.”

Toby gives him a look. “Well, then maybe you shouldn’t have thrown my shoe. I gotta go home, dude.”

“Nah, come on.” Jim bats at him again, trying to turn him toward the house. “You can sleep over, we just gotta be quiet.”

Toby only has a moment to hesitate before Jim leans up against him, almost pushing him off-balance again, and bumps their heads together. Sphinxes aren’t built for kissing, but there’s the imprint of a warm nose on his cheek, and the brush of a rough cat tongue, and suddenly walking home alone in the dark with one shoe is probably the most unappealing idea he’s had all week.

“Fiiine,” he sighs, and pretends he isn’t blushing like a fire engine. “I’ll call Nana in the morning. Listen, though, though, this doesn’t make us even–”

Ten minutes later they’re snoring in a pile on Jim’s bed, with Toby’s fingers in his mane and Jim’s wing spread over his belly, and a breeze flowing through the window they forgot to close behind them.


End file.
